Traci (Petal)

Hi.

I bet you're wondering what I'm doing on a 'chronic hope' board. I don't have hugely debilitating diseases; only undiagnosed asthma. I spend most of my days online, either talking with friends, helping them deal with 'stuff' or helping friends of friends with the same thing. I can work, when I have a job. I love most any craft. Some call me an 'accomplished' musician. And yet all this, but my hands don't work most of the time.

Confused? I was too. When I was 15, my hands started hurting. I was determined to make it through school, and get a band scholarship, since I was First Chair Clarinet. I knew I was good; you don't 'do' music for 9 years of your life and not have some kind of accomplishment. I would even skip classes, though unintentionally, to practice my clarinet so I could be even better at something I love.

I managed to succeed. Not only did I get the scholarship to the school of my choice, I also received the 'Band Award', and have 20-something medals to prove my honour band participation. I played every clarinet from an e-flat soprano (a tiny little high pitched one) to an e-flat contrabass (I had to sit on telephone books to play that one!). I had great fun, but my hands didn't like me.

Following months, and even years of my mother telling me nothing was wrong, I was only wanting attention, I finally convinced her to let me go to the doctor to find out what was wrong. This was getting too intense. I wasn't able to play the clarinet; I wasn't able to hold a pencil, much less move a set of pots and pans at work. Working in retail in the home store is NOT good for people with aching hands. I don't remember how many sets of china I dropped, but I do remember not being able to stop the tears when I was reprimanded. There was nothing I could do, honestly.

After seeing my pediatrician (I still don't know why my mother insisted I see him first), I saw over 10 doctors in 12 months. I went through multiple nerve conductivity tests, and muscle reaction tests. I was in 5 different supports for my wrists, and nothing seemed to be working. My wrists only went downhill. The strange thing is that no one could ever find anything firm to diagnose.

One of the Doctors I saw specialized in treating musicians. One look and he noticed my muscles weren't operating the way they should. He decided I had Type 1 A-typical Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. I have yet to find a description of this online, but his explanation was that my lumbrical muscles were too large for my hand, and they were crowding my carpal tunnel, creating the same effect as regular, everyday carpal tunnel. He put me in a molded plastic brace that held my fingers out straight. Most everyone told me I did an Awesome back-scratch with that on. My professors weren't amused though.

Class Piano that day was amusing, or rather disappointing. When I came in, a few seconds late, the professor looked at me. In front of the whole class, he said, 'you now have a decision to make. Either get the hand under control, or study music. I don't want to see you with anything inhibiting your performance again.' Not only had he started crushing the music dream I had for years, but he also insulted me in front of the whole class. I had to face him every morning, and most afternoons. That became the beginning of the end. I moped around for days until some friends asked me to try one more thing.

I gave in. The guy I was dating at the time insisted I go to a chiropractor friend of his. If no one else could diagnose me, he was sure this man could. After a while of poking and prodding; which hurt I might add, he decided my diagnosis was simple Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, Tendonitis, Bursitis, and Arthritis. Wow! Finally someone who knew what was going on! Something I could now identify and treat. I thought I could get help from the University in some of my classes, other than music.

Because I wanted the pain to cease, I chose to change my major. It was a hard decision, and I felt God had denied me the love I had for music. I couldn't have been more devastated than realizing I had to give up the one thing I loved more than anything on earth. I was ridiculed, told I would be healed if I only had enough faith, or if I renounced evil I'd been in, and numerous other things addressed on this site. Yet, nothing helped.

Today, almost 16 years after the onset of my symptoms, I still manage to push through. I'm not healed as of yet, but I don't buy into the lies about healing and faith that have been thrown around. Maybe, there's nothing I've done to bring this on myself; maybe it's for God's glory. Maybe, there's a treatment that hasn't been found. Regardless of the questions that flood my mind, God loves me, God is not angry with me, and God wants the very best for me.

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